


Your touch on my skin

by fortytworedvines



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Happy Ending, Soulmate AU, how they find each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/pseuds/fortytworedvines
Summary: Serena is used to feeling sensations transmitted through her soulmate's mark. It's always been a comfort to her, until one day all she can feel is pain...
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 31
Kudos: 91
Collections: The Final Countdown





	Your touch on my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wonko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/gifts).



> For Wonko, thanks for the idea (and the summary)

Serena is deep in the abdomen of an appendectomy case in the moment that everything changes. She feels the familiar tingle of her soulmate mark on her inner left wrist, smiles, ignores it to focus on the task in hand when suddenly there is pain. Unfamiliar, intense, blazing pain that radiates out and upwards from that spot on her wrist, making her gasp, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Ms Campbell?” That’s Morven’s voice, and she sounds worried. Serena’s eyes are closed and she can’t open them, is barely able to hold herself upright over the operating table. She steps backwards and drops her instruments safely away from the open incision, clasps her hand over her wrist as though it might help.

“What’s wrong?” Morven sounds more than panicked now.

“Soulmate,” Serena chokes out around the agony. “Get Ric to scrub in.”

* * *

She remembers when Adrienne first told her about soulmates, about the mark that some people – but not all – are born with. Serena’s is a tiny little patch on her hip, not noticeable unless you’re looking. When you touch it, she remembers her mother explaining, your soulmate can feel it. And when they touch theirs, you feel it. Serena had spent years carefully avoiding ever even brushing hers, but then one day there had been a spark of warmth, a little flush of happiness, focussed in her wrist. It had made her smile and she’d found herself pressing her own mark surreptitiously, sending the feeling back to her soulmate, whoever they might be.

Sometimes months would go by without a touch, but on days when Serena dearly needed a friendly face she’d find her fingers going to her hip and there would always be an answer. She had looked for them, in the end, but never with any luck. She’d known from the beginning that Edward was not and could never be her soulmate but hoped they would be happy anyway. The day that she’d left she’d reached out into the ether for comfort and received it, felt wrapped in a warm blanket of love.

* * *

She slumps back into the corner of the theatre, cradling her arm and trying to breathe through it. Like childbirth, she thinks hysterically. Then she remembers how she’d been helped through it and fights her way under her surgical gown, dips her fingers under the top of her scrub trousers and finds her mark. She presses it carefully, breathes slowly, tries to think calming thoughts, healing thoughts and hopes that it will help even a tiny bit. The pain lessens, a little and she wonders if she was successful. Then she wonders if her soulmate is dying and bites her lip. If sheer force of will can keep them alive, she’ll manage it.

By the time Ric has completed the appendectomy and Morven has closed, Serena is able to stand. Over the next few hours the pain subsides completely, although she stays well away from surgery, in case it flares up again. Busies herself with paperwork and ignores the looks on her colleagues faces. She’s never mentioned it before, her soulmate. It’s not unheard of in the hospital – Arthur and Morven are known to be soulmates – but it’s something that Serena has always kept to herself. Somehow she gets through her shift and home to a very welcome bottle of Shiraz. She keeps a finger on her mark almost constantly, but now the pain is gone she gets nothing back. She worries.

In the morning she feels the faintest, faintest tingle in her wrist and her heart lightens. They’re alive. Sends her happiness straight back.

* * *

There’s a buzz in the hospital when she arrives. A badly injured army major has been helicoptered in and taken straight to Darwin. “I’d like you to go up for the consult,” Hanssen says, collaring Serena before she even makes it onto AAU.

“But -” she starts.

“There may be vascular damage,” he says, in a tone that brooks no argument, “Your expertise will be required.”

So Serena heads up to Darwin. She doesn’t usually avoid it, per se, but she and Jac have never quite seen eye to eye despite Serena’s early overtures.

“You’re here,” Jac says now, with a look that suggests that Serena is late, “This way, Campbell.”

It’s quite the crowd in the room, with representatives from various wards eager to have a say. Serena tunes them out with practised ease and studies the woman in the bed. That’s the first surprise. Major Wolfe is a woman about her own age, slim and blonde. There’s a twinkle in her eye despite her situation and Serena likes the look of her immensely.

“If I might have a say?” the Major says, and although her voice is quiet it is strong and the room hushes. “This is rather my bread and butter.”

It is? Serena surreptitiously elbows the nurse next to her and peeks at her notes. Major Berenice Wolfe. She’s _that_ Major Wolfe – the eminent trauma surgeon. Serena doesn’t envy whoever ends up operating on her.

Serena forgets to listen as she speaks, noting instead the messy blonde hair – well, she has just been blown up, it’s understandable – and the soft looking lips and the sparkle in her eyes. Oh. Berenice catches her eye, winks minutely, and Serena flushes. For some reason that she doesn’t fully understand, her fingers drop to her hip, briefly stroke her mark.

Berenice starts and her eyes open wide. She lets the conversation flow on without her, instead holds Serena’s gaze. Serena can’t look away from her. There’s a flush to her cheeks now and it suits her. As Serena watches, she stretches her arm out on the bed in front of her. Nobody else is paying attention now, they’re all arguing amongst themselves. Slowly, slowly, Berenice brushes her thumb gently across her inner wrist.

And Serena’s own wrist tingles. Oh, _Oh_. Her eyes fill with tears as she stares at the woman in the bed.

“Later,” Berenice mouths, rolling her eyes at the crowd in the room.

“Later,” Serena agrees. She strokes her mark again and despite the fractured spine and the dodgy heart, Berenice glows with joy.


End file.
